


Irresistible

by brownest_goldfish_intheair



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Berlermo, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, Smut, everyone is fine and a bit tipsy, i won't elaborate, the wet shirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brownest_goldfish_intheair/pseuds/brownest_goldfish_intheair
Summary: "The only people involved in the plan who were not completely chaotic were probably Sergio, Raquel and Marsella and they were coincidentally also the people who had not made the drunk snap decision to go to a party in the middle of Florence three days before the heist."---This is about Andrés, Martín and the gang of actual children.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 7
Kudos: 140





	Irresistible

“Guys, are you done?” Nairobi called from the other side of the door. “Because we’re about to leave.” Martín groaned internally; _he_ wanted to leave too. He was already a bit tipsy and all he wanted to do now was go out and dance. But a certain idiot could not make up his mind about which velvet jacket to wear and so he was sitting on his desk, waiting for him.  
“We’ll be done in a minute.” He called back, giving Andrés an accusing glare in the mirror, which was completely ignored, of course.  
“What’s going on, are you fucking?” Tokyo asked.  
“I _wish_.” Martín mumbled under his breath, regarding the way his husband straightened out his jacket. He loved this man, but sometimes, he drove him absolutely nuts.  
It took another two minutes – that felt like an hour – until Andrés finally turned around, making Martín jump up from the desk in excitement.  
“Can we leave now?” He asked hopefully. Andrés chuckled.  
“Of course.” He shrugged casually, as if Martín had not just waited for him _for ages_ , before he made his way to the door.  
  
“No, Tokyo, we didn’t.” Martín said instantly he saw the stupid grin on her face. She was leaning against the wall with Rio’s arm wrapped around her waist, rising her eyebrows at him, as if she didn't believe a word he was saying.  
“What _were_ you doing, cariño?” Nairobi asked as they began to walk to the door.  
“Picking out a jacket.” Martín sighed and glanced over at Andrés.  
“No need to look at me like that.” Andrés said. “You know exactly who I dress up for.” Martín rolled his eyes, a small smile forming and his lips when Andrés reached for his hand, softly brushing over his fingers before interlacing them with his own.

It was a cool summer evening and the walls of the monastery were drenched in peach sunlight when they rounded them. Rio was carrying Tokyo on his back, following Denver and Mónica to their car, and Bogota was trying his best to flirt with Nairobi while Helsinki watched them with hopeful glances.  
Martín could not believe that those were the people he and Andrés were trusting with their _child_. But then again, what could he say? The only people involved in the plan who were _not_ completely chaotic were probably Sergio, Raquel and Marsella and they were coincidentally also the people who had not made the drunk snap decision to go to a party in the middle of Florence three days before the heist. He could hear Sergio’s voice in the back of his head right now:  
“This plan is a disaster. _You_ are a disaster!” He wanted to _laugh_. Of course it was a disaster: So many things depended on luck and being in the right place at the right time; it was impossible - just as impossible as the man who stole diamonds and talked about it like it was art ever falling in love with him. And yet here he was, holding his hand and planning his future with him  
  
  
Martín had spent most of his nights in the previous weeks going over numbers and drawings, trying to make sure he’d done his absolute best; that they had the highest possible chances of success. It had even ended in him untangling himself from Andrés embrace, just to get back to his desk, which Andrés, for some reason that had never been fully clear to Martín, found very attractive; he’d lie in bed and stare at him writing down formulas for hours. But he was done with it; at least for tonight. All he wanted to do was enjoy a few carefree hours with his husband before they’d be locked in a building with hundreds of police officers pointing guns at them for days.  
So he pulled Andrés onto the dance-floor as soon as they arrived, earning a fond smile as he pulled him closer and being pulled into a tender kiss as they moved to the music together.  
  
It was almost dark when Martín stepped off the dance-floor to walk few meters across the grass, trying to light a cigarette without spilling his drink. He was interrupted by a quiet laugh, coming from somewhere behind him and when he turned around, he saw Tokyo lean against a fountain, grinning up at him. Oh no, this could not be good.  
“Hey Palermo.” She said in her on-brand seductive voice.  
“Hey?” He gave her a confused look as he slowly put the cigarette away.  
“Come here for a second, will you?” He rose his eyebrows. Tokyo was a bit stupid, but certainly not stupid enough to actually try and hit on him. But Martín’s brain was fuzzy and he wasn’t in the mood for any sort of discussion, so he simply took a few steps toward her.  
“What is it?” He said when he was standing right in front of her. She tilted her head to the side.  
“Nothing, just wanted to do _this_.” Before he knew what was happening, Tokyo had splashed him with water and was running off toward the dance floor.  
“¿Qué _coño_?” Martín turned around with a dumbfounded expression. “Tokyo!” He began running after her as soon as he had recovered and they arrived at the dance floor together, Tokyo stumbling into the group to hide behind Nairobi.  
“Oh my god, you _did_ it.” Nairobi covered her mouth with her hand while she started laughing and tried her best to shield Tokyo with her body.  
“ _What_?” Martín asked, trying to get past Nairobi. Mónica giggled next to her.  
“Denver dared her to get your shirt wet.” She said. “Because Helsinki said that…”  
“Mónica, no” Helsinki interrupted her. Martín looked back and forth between all of them, until his eyes landed on Denver, who immediately started laughing his stupid laugh.  
“Are you all fucking kidding me?” He asked. They just kept grinning at him.  
“Everything alright, mi amor?” Andrés asked, coming up next to him. He sighed and turned to look at his husband.  
“Oh, yeah, great. It just looks like we’re going to steal the national gold reserves with a bunch of _children_.”  
“Shh.” Tokyo said, suppressing a laugh and dramatically putting a finger on her lips while looking around them. Andrés gave them a sharp look.  
“You are all idiots; we were supposed _not_ to attract attention.” He said, which actually made them look a little guilty, before he let his eyes wander down to Martín’s chest.  
“Although, I kind of see how they got there.” His voice turned soft. “You _had_ to wear white, didn’t you?” Oh. _Oh_. The last bit of annoyance Martín had left in his body instantly disappeared when he saw the look on Andrés’ face. He was fixing him as if he were going to tear the shirt off his body right there.  
“I think…” Martín started with a small smirk. “Tokyo wants to buy me a drink to apologise.” Before she could object, he pulled her to the bar with him, looking back an Andrés with a faint smirk.  
  
Martín sat at the bar, casually sipping his drink, enjoying the way Andrés didn’t take his eyes off him for a second, the way he so clearly _wanted_ him; he could have done this all night. Or well, not really, because whenever Andrés wanted him, it took about 0.02 seconds for him to want Andrés just as much. So he looked up at him with a small smile and slowly moved his fingers to his mouth to lightly trail them across his lips. Andrés’s hands instantly came to rest on his waist.  
“What do you think you’re doing, huh?” He asked lowly.  
“I’m just having a drink.” Martín replied innocently. “In this completely wet shirt that I wish I could take off because I’m so cold and I-“ Andrés’ lips found his before he could say another word.  
  
“Berlin, what are you doing? You’re getting your expensive jacket all wet.” Nairobi asked teasingly, regarding them with an amused grin.  
Andrés turned around to her, not taking his hands off Martín’s waist for a second.  
“And you care about my clothes since…?” He asked.  
“No, no, she’s right, cariño.” Martín said before she could reply. “You should take it off.” Andrés turned back to him, raising his eyebrows.  
“Oh, you think so?” He asked, moving his face closer to Martín’s. Martín nodded, his lips _burning_ because Andrés was almost, but not quite touching them. “After I spent so long picking it out.” He said with a small smirk before slightly moving back to let the elegant Italian fabric glide off his shoulders. Nairobi hid her grin by taking another sip from her drink before she looked away.  
“Better now?” He asked when he pressed his body back against Martín’s.  
“Mmh, a lot.” Martín replied breathlessly as he continued kissing Andrés, letting his hands wander all over his body, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin under his soft dress shirt.  
  
“Martín.” Andrés whispered after a moment, just barely pulling back from his lips.  
“Mhm?” Martín gave asked, already trying to resume the kiss. Andrés chuckled.  
“People can _hear_ you, you know.” Martín’s brain took a second to catch up. _Oh_ , he hated him. Andrés knew exactly that the only reason he couldn’t keep quiet when he kissed him, especially when he was drunk, was because Andrés had told him so many times how much he loved it. “Do we need to go somewhere else?” Andrés added quietly, trailing tender kisses down his neck. Okay, he could forgive him; he could forgive him if they left.  
“Yeah.” Martín mumbled as he tried his best _not_ to react to what Andrés was doing. Andrés cupped his face to kiss him again before he grabbed his jacket and took his hand to lead him away from the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, Martín could just barely see that Nairobi was _still_ grinning at them.  
  
When they arrived at their car, Andrés immediately pushed Martín back against the door, letting his hands wander under his shirt as he kissed him. Martín sighed deeply at the warm touch on his cold skin, automatically pulling him closer by the hips. He could barely let go to open the car door, so lost in those _lips_ and those _hands_ and what was pressed against his leg.  
Andrés stripped him off his shirt first, slowly, savouring the moment with a fond smile. Then he moved on to his trousers, running his fingers down Martín’s hips and thighs to pull them off. Martín chuckled as he climbed on top of him and quickly opened his belt to get hold of his cock.  
Andrés moaned against his lips, his hands coming up to cup his ass.  
“Lube?” He asked breathlessly. Martín sighed.  
“In the front.” He said, moving back with a pained look.  
“If you want me to take you dry, corazón, just say it.” Andrés chuckled, gently running a hand down his asscheek. Martín groaned internally; they’d done that _once_ , and it had hurt like a motherfucking bitch.  
He gave Andrés’ cock another stroke before turning around to reach into the front. While he was fumbling through the glovebox, Andrés leaned forward to plant chaste kisses all down his back.  
“You’re distracting me.” Martín mumbled desperately, wanting nothing more than to _find that fucking bottle right now_.  
“You’re distracting me too, with that view.” Andrés chuckled, making shivers run down his spine.

When Martín finally got hold of the lube, he instantly tried to straighten his back, but was held down by Andrés’ hand.  
“Don’t move, give it to me.” He whispered, reaching forward around his waist. Martín could feel heat spread into his head as he tried to keep his body half-upright while handing the bottle to Andrés.  
He kept kissing his back while slowly starting to massage the cold liquid in between Martín’s thighs. Martín closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure as Andrés moved two fingers into him in a practiced motion, making him press his hands down onto the front seat.  
“Now come here.” Andrés said lowly. “Let me fuck you, mi amor.” He didn’t have to tell him twice; Martín pushed himself up and turned around instantly, and Andrés pulled him back onto his lap with his arms resting on his back as he slowly sank into him. Martín sighed with his eyes half-closed, the relief sweet enough to make him forget everything else as he began to move his hips, Andrés smiling as he looked up at him.  
“ _Fuck_ , you were hot in that shirt.” He said. “You almost killed me.” Martín grinned, holding on tighter as he quickened pace.  
“Yeah, I noticed.” He said. “And now we’re having sex in the backseat of a car, like teenagers.” Andrés chuckled and pulled him closer, pushing him down so he ended up hitting exactly _that_ spot. Martín laughed breathlessly as he joined their mouths, moaning against his lips.  
  
He was so caught up in the pleasure that when he heard footsteps close by, it took him a second to register what was happening. He slowed down a bit, eliciting an irritated groan from Andrés, and glanced out the window. In the half-dark, he could make out Tokyo and Rio, stumbling to the other car, with their hands all over each other’s bodies.  
“Mierda.” He breathed, slightly ducking his head down. Andrés followed his gaze; when he saw the two people passing, he chuckled and softly kissed Martín’s shoulder.  
“It’s okay, get down.” He whispered and carefully moved him onto his back so he was covering him with his body. Martín instantly wrapped his legs around him and pressed his face into his shirt, breathing in the smell of that cologne he only wore when they went out - a shame, really.  
“They’ll see us.” He whispered.  
“Shh, tranquilo.” Andrés said, slowly beginning to move inside him again. And as much as Martín wanted to object, he had absolutely no chance, not with Andrés fucking him like this, so he muffled his moans on his shoulder and held tightly onto his back while Andrés pushed him into the seat cushion.  
  
  
“Do you think they saw us?” Martín asked, just barely glancing out of the window while closing his belt.  
“They were busy themselves, cariño.” Andrés smiled, lazily kissing his neck. “In fact, they probably still are.” Martín shook his head with a grin and turned around to let Andrés kiss him softly.  
“Do you want to go back?” He asked.  
“Mmm, I’m not letting you go in that shirt though.” Andrés said, protectively wrapping his arms around Martín's waist.  
“And what do you suggest?”  
  
They returned with Martín wearing Andrés’ jacket. When they passed Mónica, they were met with a huge grin.  
“Helsinki was right then.” She said, quickly letting her eyes wander over Andrés’ hand resting on Martín’s lower back. Martín gave her a confused look.  
“Right in saying _what_?” He asked. Mónica quickly looked around before she leaned in to whisper in his ear:  
“That you would be _irresistible_ , in a wet shirt.”

**Author's Note:**

> If the pacing was a bit off, I'm sorry. I'm not that good at stories without angst lol, but I had this idea because of those photos of Rodrigo and I did my best.
> 
> Thanks for reading! xx


End file.
